
I'm back from my mini-vacation. This is what I left behind. I did not want to come back. I especially did not want to come back to work. Now I've done both, I'm pissed.
This little break was good for the soul. Even if it wasn't anywhere near long enough to be completely satisfying, it was wonderful just to get away from home and have a few days of good times with the family. I enjoyed the beach and Disneyworld, but most of all I enjoyed being with my wife and kids.
The whole thing started weird. The plan was to get to bed early, get up at 3 a.m. and be on the road at 4 a.m. As with any good plan, this one was bound to fail, but it did so in a good way.
First, there was no chance of getting to bed early. I ended up working until 11 p.m. the night before, meaning my head didn't hit the pillow until 11:45 p.m. Still, I felt like a good three-hour nap would be just enough to get me through the 750-mile drive the next day and gave it a whirl.
At 1 a.m., with my eyes still wide open, I looked over at my wife, whose eyes were also still wide open, and said, "Screw it. Let's leave right now." So, without any sleep, we got the bags in the car, made those last-minute checks to make sure we had everything, dressed the kids and tossed them in the back seat with blankets and pillows, and we were on the road by 2 a.m.
I had meant to fill up the gas tank beforehand, but didn't get the chance. The car had a little less than three-quarters of a tank, so I just got on the highway and hoped I would run across somewhere with significantly cheaper gas prices along the way. Of course, I knew that somewhere wouldn't be Tennessee, having been warned about gas prices there before hand. So a couple hours later, I'm 23 miles from the North Carolina border watching anxiously as the gas needle slips further and further into the red end of the gauge. We were in my wife's car and she assured me we could make it at least 25 miles or so with the gas we had remaining, so we decided to live on the edge and try to make it to North Carolina. We didn't know that we would have to climb a mountain on par with the Himalayas in those last few miles, just sucking up the gas. We didn't count on there not being a gas station until we were nine miles inside North Carolina. But somehow we made it anyway, even though we had to settle for a Shell station with gas prices slightly more expensive than at home. Oh, and it was closed, too. But it was then I discovered that the pay-at-the-pump feature works even when the station is closed. And, with bladders near bursting, me and the boys were forced to invent a new gas station feature which I will call "pee-at-the-pump." And before we left, my son made sure to close the door on no fewer than three of my fingers, then struggle to comprehend how to unlock his door in order to free me, which is apparently a task that takes a considerable amount of time for an 11-year-old at 4:30 in the morning.
Back on the road, things were fairly uneventful the rest of the trip down. There were a couple of moments where I got very, very sleepy, but I was still so excited that I don't think I was ever in any danger of conking out behind the wheel. At 3 the following afternoon, once again nursing a dwindling gas tank, I pulled our car into our motel in Daytona Beach.
Leaving early gave us an unanticipated extra half-day, so after checking in, we immediately headed for the beach for about an hour, then went on downtown for dinner. There's a pretty decent restaurant on the Main Street Pier, and my wife was very excited to see that they had outdoor seating. As we ate our dinner and watched the waves and the pelicans, a storm moved in and we were treated to a fantastic lightning show while we finished off our meals. I was amazed at the people who continued to head out into the water, despite the lightning. I kept thinking that I might get to see a live version of some future "World's Biggest Idiots Caught on Tape" show, but the storm never got more than closer than a couple of miles from where we were sitting and the hapless beachgoers were spared.
The following day was Disneyworld. It was Disney, what else can I say? Lots of rides, lots of people, lots of heat, lots of dollars flying from my wallet in a continuous green blur, and still, lots of fun. I relived some of my childhood days at Disney, and got to watch my kids experience it for the first time. That was the key part. I've never felt more like superdad than I did that day. And I managed to keep it a secret from the kids all the way until we rolled under the big "Welcome to Disneyworld" gate. I worried that my older son might catch on from the road signs leading into the place, but he brought along a fistful of manga books and was blissfully unaware of his surroundings the entire drive.
The next day was our last full day, and we spent it mostly at the beach, with the prerequisite evening of hunting down souveniers. That night, we had dinner at a wonderful place on Beach Street called Song Mongolian Grill. This was a first for our family, and it was thoroughly enjoyable. If you've not yet made it to a Mongolian barbecue, you have to try it. Think hibachi dinner at a Japanese steakhouse, except you get to pick out all of the ingredients yourself, and it's all-you-can-eat. You just go fill up another bowl and take it to the grill. Sadly, I was stuffed after a mere two bowls. Plus the second bowl, I completely misjudged how much crushed red pepper to add, and spent the rest of the evening sucking down one Pepsi after another, occasionally pausing to press the ice-cold glass to my burning lips.
The next morning, we headed back toward home, opting to take the scenic route via A1A along the coast from Daytona to damn near Jacksonville. I hadn't intended to go that far before heading back to the interstate, but that's what happened. Along the way, we stopped and did a quick tour of Castilla de San Marcos, an 18th century Spanish fort in St. Augustine. Between the tour and the backroads driving, I ended up adding about two hours to the journey home, which really sucks since it was a 13-hour trip to begin with.
I do have to mention dinner on the way home. Speeding along through North Carolina, we decided to set Asheville as a target for stopping to eat. Honestly, considering the amount of money I spent on the trip, I was hoping to stop at a Denny's or maybe even Chick-Fil-A to save a few bucks. But then we got to Hendersonville, which I think is 20 or 30 miles outside of Asheville. I looked up and saw a billboard for "Binion's Roadhouse," with artwork showing a royal flush (spades, if you must know). What the heck, I'm a sucker for a poker-themed marketing gimmick, and I was honestly curious if maybe someone in the Binion family had decided to branch out into restaurants. But no, the restaurant had absolutely nothing to do with the Binions. It was just another roadhouse, with the peanuts on the floor and all, except that it did have some casino memorabilia hanging on the walls. There were also references to someone called "Ole Bob," and I eventually found his story on the walls. It turns out his name was Robert Burton and he was at one time considered the nation's most successful bounty hunter. What this had to do with the poker or casinos was never explained, except that I assume he liked to gamble. In fact, I'm not exactly sure what his relationship to the restaurant is either. But the place had some tasty steaks, and that made it worthwhile.
Other than that, my trip was completely poker-free. Well, driving by the Daytona dog track and noticing that they also offer a poker room, I was tempted to sneak off, but brushed those thoughts aside after taking inventory of both my available cash and my energy level (I discovered the poker room as we returned from Disneyworld). Plus, they can only offer $1-2 limit in Florida, which hardly seemed worth the effort. But maybe someday when I return (and I'm definitely going back) I'll give it a shot.
Oh, there is so much more to write about, but I'm running out of energy. Hopefully tomorrow I can write about all of these changes taking place with online poker rooms. And for my Kentucky readers, I've some info on a weekly game in the Mt. Sterling area. Be back soon.